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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26080444">Slick With Crimson</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maren_Emilie/pseuds/Maren_Emilie'>Maren_Emilie</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>TUA One-Shots [6]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Umbrella Academy (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Blood and Injury, Gen, Hurt Number Five | The Boy, Hurt/Comfort, Number Five | The Boy Whump, Number Five | The Boy-centric, Proofreading who?, The Hargreeves being good siblings, The siblings are worried, Whump, don't know her, trying to at least, uhhh</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 02:54:50</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,921</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26080444</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maren_Emilie/pseuds/Maren_Emilie</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>I got a request to write a fic where Five gets injured and doesn't tell anyone about it, resulting in him passing out in front of all his siblings. This is what came out of it.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Number Five | The Boy &amp; The Hargreeves (Umbrella Academy)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>TUA One-Shots [6]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1532015</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>506</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Slick With Crimson</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I'm not sure how I feela bout this one tbh</p><p>Feel free to come yell at me on tumblr if you want to tho</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>It’s stupid, really. Just a silly accident. If Five had been faster this would have never happened. It shouldn’t have happened in the first place, but the commission could be tricky. And while Five is good, he’s not invincible, despite what some people might think.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sure it hurt, but he has experienced worse. Compared to that it is honestly just a gash. He could take care of it when they got home. Nothing to worry about, really. No rush. He had lived through the apocalypse after all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Well actually, it hurt a lot. Gunshot wounds, Five finds, hurts in a different way. It burns. Really burns. Like he’s being split open. His abdomen is on </span>
  <em>
    <span>fire</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Honestly, it was just his luck that he’d get shot when his shrapnel wound had finally healed. Five had really thought he was done limping around. They really could get no rest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Five drops his weapon of choice, a gun he’d nabbed off the first guy he’d taken out. It clatters to the concrete floor, echoing throughout the empty room. With a last look around he jumps out of the room to look for his siblings, ignoring the way the jump makes his abdomen flare up in pain.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Luckily for Five he finds Diego, Allison and Klaus in the next room, while Vanya and Luther are in the next. They’re panting slightly, but otherwise they seem okay. Just a little worn out from the fight. Much to his relief.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you okay, Five?” Klaus asks him, gesturing to his blood soaked sweater-west.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Five brushes him off with a gesture of his hand, subtly adjusting his jacket to cover it. “It’s not mine,” he lies effortlessly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Vanya gives him a look, but Five pretends he doesn’t see it. He straightens himself up and schools his expression, even as his skin feels clammy and his heart flutters in his chest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do we do now?” asks Allison, crossing her arms over her chest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We should probably get out of here before the police show up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So we just leave them?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We can’t exactly…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Five’s heart is pounding in his ribcage. His head is swimming and his vision blurs in the edges. He’s distantly aware of the bloody spot on his sweater-vest expanding, the shirt under warm, and clinging uncomfortably to his skin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Five would kill for a coffee right about now. Maybe they have some at the Academy. Or have they run out? He can’t quite recall the last time they went grocery shopping. Friday? Or was it Thursday? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Didn’t he have coffee this morning though? Or was that yesterday?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“—ive?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>What day is it again?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Five!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Five blinks, startled. Diego stands in front of him, crouched down to his eye level. On a normal day Five would have been offended. He would have retort or an insult ready on his lips, but today it totally slips his mind. Instead, he dazedly stares at his brother.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You with us, Five?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” He blinks. “Yeah.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diego frowns, clearly not convinced. But maybe if Five wills him to, Diego won’t ask.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You sure there, bud? You look a little pale,” Klaus comments.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Five scowls before he’s even had time to think of a reaction. “I’m </span>
  <em>
    <span>fine</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Klaus takes a step back, as if he’ll get physically injured if he stands too close, and throws his hands up, showing off his ‘hello’ and ‘goodbye’ tattoos. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Allright,” Diego says then. “We’re leaving.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oh. Already?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Car is just around the corner.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They walk out, but it takes a few seconds for Five to register it and he has to sprint up to them to follow. Which he immediately regrets once his visions momentarily fades and swirls. It’s a miracle he doesn’t stumble or fall.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He stays at the back of the group. Partly because he hopes it’ll be harder to notice that he’s hurt, and partly because his body feels weak and shaky and he’s definitely not wheezing. not at all. He’s fine. He can rest a little in the car. It’s a-ok. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But then it’s farther to the car than he can remember and suddenly he’s not so sure that he’s fine after all. He feels cold and clammy. His thoughts come out muddy and incoherent at best. His breaths come hard and shallow and his body just feels plain wrong. He’s vaguely aware of the blood trickling down his leg.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His siblings are chatting to each other, but Five has no idea what they’re talking about. Frankly, it all sounds muffled and confusing to him. It’s like he can hear that they’re talking, but not the actual words they’re saying. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>That can’t be good.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He hopes the bullet hasn't travelled too far. That wouldn't be good.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then there’s a crack in the pavement and the world goes dark.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Five’s body hits the pavement with a thud and a quiet groan, startling his siblings.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Jesus—"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Five!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diego is by his side first, despite previously being at the front of tbe group. He's quick to turn him onto his back, something about this whole situation feeling eerily familiar.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He gently taps the boy's cheeks, calling his name, but Five's face remains lax and unresponsive. Worry gnaws at his insides. And then Luther lifts his shirt up and Diego curses.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Of course Five hadn't told them he was hurt. Why would he? That would be out of character.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diego tosses the keys to Allison. “Get the car!” he yells.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Allison doesn’t need to be told twice, and she sprints away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diego doesn’t waste any time either. As soon as the keys are out of his hands he puts pressure on the wound, putting his entire weight into it, because god damn it he is not losing his brother today. Especially not after so long. And especially not over some measly bullet wound. Diego has seen Five take a lot of shit and he certainly won’t let this kill him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Vanya kneels down next to him, looking timid and scared as she brushes Five’s bangs from his face. She pats his cheeks and calls out to him. There are unshed tears in her eyes and Diego tries not to think about the fact that they were friends when they were kids. Before Five had run out the door and didn’t come back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Five’s breaths come out wheezy and shallow. Diego’s hands are drenched in crimson. Warm, slippery crimson. Slick with his Five’s blood. The pavement beneath him is red, soaking into the knees of his pants.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She grabs his hand and squeezes it in hers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Luther paces behind him, not able to do much but wait.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>No. It’s going to be okay. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As if on cue Allison turns up with the car, parking it right next to them. She jumps out and helps them move Five into the backseat, and before they know it they’re racing back to the Academy, leaving only a small puddle of blood behind.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The car ride goes by in a blur, and with a bit of teamwork they get Five inside and into the infirmary where their mother takes over. It’s a relief, honestly. All they can hope for is that Five makes it through.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The first thing Diego does is march straight to a bathroom. He fumbles with the tap before he manages to turn on the water, after managing to smear blood everywhere. He doesn’t really care about that though. He just wants this blood </span>
  <em>
    <span>off</span>
  </em>
  <span> him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diego has seen a lot of blood in his life. They all have. It’s just something that comes with their lives. But it’s always unpleasant when it’s one of their own. Even if Five can be an annoying bastard.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diego scrubs and scrubs at his hands until there’s no blood left, and then some more.</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Five feels strange. Like he has no body. His mind feels muddled and far away. It feels...good. He could be like this forever and he wouldn’t mind. Five can’t remember a time when he felt so light and relaxed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wait. That’s not right.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Weren’t they just out? How did he get here?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Five cracks his eyes open, squinting at his surroundings. It takes him a few seconds to realise where he is. He’s back at the Academy. In his room. His walls are still covered in white chalk and Five vaguely recalls Allison wanting to get it painted over.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The problem is; he can’t remember going back. And he certainly can’t remember going to bed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wait. Hadn’t he been shot?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With sluggish hands Five pats himself down. Although his fingers are clumsy and everything feels strange he does feel something under his shirt. Bandages. He must have passed out and been brought to the Academy. He can’t think of any other explanations.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And even if he could he wouldn’t need to because at that moment his siblings decide to come in. He watches them with tired eyes as they filter in, one by one.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You had us worried there, old man,” Klaus comments with a hint of amusement.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Allison has her arms crossed over her chest, and Five would think she was angry at him if it wasn’t for the smile on her face. In fact, they all look relieved.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You didn’t think to tell us you were hurt?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diego looks at him with a raised brow and an unimpressed expression. Five averts his eyes, shame welling in his chest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry,” Five mumbles.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Vanya steps forward. “Why didn’t you tell us?” she asks timidly, and she looks so sad and worried that Five can’t not answer her. No matter how much he doesn’t want to.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know,” he mutters, fiddling with the hem of his pyjama shirt. The others look at him expectantly and Five hates how small he suddenly feels under their gazes. He hates when he feels small and vulnerable. It definitely doesn’t help that he looks like a small child. And it probably doesn’t help that he’s definitely still feeling the effects of whatever painkillers he’s been put on either. “I guess…” He swallows. “I guess I just got so used to being alone and I’m not used to having help.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s uncomfortable. Feelings are uncomfortable. He’d always been bad at them, and the apocalypse certainly hadn’t helped at all. Five wants to leave, but he doubts he’ll be able to use his powers in this state and he doesn’t trust his legs to get him very far right now. Besides, if he did try to make a run for it he wouldn’t be able to make it past all his siblings.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Even so, he adds; “And I didn’t want to worry you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You could have </span>
  <em>
    <span>died</span>
  </em>
  <span>!” Diego cries.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It was fine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It clearly wasn’t! Do you have no self-preservation at all?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s bold coming from you—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Vanya sighs. “Guys, please,” she says. Much to her surprise they both stop fighting immediately. For a second she’s not quite sure what to do. “It’s just...Five we care about you, and we worry about you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The others nod in agreement.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know, you can tell us if you need help,” she finishes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Five is quiet. He looks down and fiddles with his hands, not sure how to respond. After a while Five mutters, “Ok.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Vanya smiles. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll take it into consideration.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Klaus snorts and Vanya sighs exasperatedly, but she can’t help but smile either. The rest of the siblings do the same, a sense of amused annoyance in the air.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You bastard,” Klaus comments. “Ben says you’re an idiot.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you for reading! Feel free to read my other work and follow me on my socials:<br/>Wattpad - maren-emilie<br/>Tumblr - waternoodlescamander.tumblr.com / maren-emilie.tumblr.com<br/>Twitter - @marenemilie03<br/>Instagram - @marencantdraw</p></blockquote></div></div>
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